


Hail Mary Full of Sin

by MrsKillianJones89 (MrsElLambert89)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-23 00:31:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2527334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsElLambert89/pseuds/MrsKillianJones89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian Jones is the parish priest in Dublin Ireland. Emma Cassidy is a young widow of 3 years. What happens when she takes confession and a storm hits confining her with the handsome young priest in a dark church?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hail Mary Full of Sin

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic that has been on my mind and on my Word since practically 2 months now and it is finally finished!I have always loved the idea of Killian as a priest (that dog collar does very funny things to me ;) ) so I decided to share this with all of you.  
> If this is liked then, do sent me some prompts for one shots in this story as I plan to write more of them. That being said,enjoy!

It was early one night close to 7 pm when Killian Jones was attending to his duties as parish priest. As per usual that week, the weather was dismal and grey and it looked like it was about to rain. He was at the candelabra throwing away the candles when the heavy door pushed open and a figure wearing a black coat with a hood entered closing it behind her. As she did so, it fell back exposing her features and Killian internally groaned. If he didn’t believe wholly in God he would have cursed at how unlucky he was. Him alone with Emma Swan- Cassidy when it’s about to rain? Yes He did have a twisted sense of humor sometimes.  
He turned slowly and spoke in a low tone “Miss Cassidy. What brings you at the House of the Lord in this dreadful weather?” he inquired. He was honestly curious because before her marriage and her husband’s passing, Emma had been at mass and for confession at a weekly basis. But she hadn’t shown up once since her husband was buried. Oh she had walked the curb but never actively sought to enter. He was pulled out of his musings when she spoke in a low whisper. “I need to take confession Father Jones. Is this a bad time?” He shook his head running a hand through his hair as he replied “Of course not miss Cassidy. The House of the Lord is ever open to those in need of assistance. Please.”  
He strove to keep his voice level as he walked to the confessional and opened the door on his end. It was carved with ornate wood and the seat was red velvet .He sat on his seat grateful not for the first time for the gilded window between them and he made the sign of the cross as she spoke taking the seat on the other side and taking off her coat. “Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been… 6 years since my last confession. I don’t really know where to start” Killian nodded in understanding. Last time she had taken confession was before her wedding and she had been married with Neal Cassidy for 3 years before he died in the end at a car accident outside of town. He spoke softly “That’s quite alright. What’s on your mind child?” He saw her through the screen twisting a lock of blond hair between her fingers and the sudden nervous movement made something inside him clench in sympathy. This was difficult for her he could tell. “I believe I am being punished by God for something I did. I had… impure thoughts before my marriage.” Killian swallowed as he didn’t speak merely nodded waiting for her to continue. “I got pregnant. From Neal. That was why we married so quickly. His father was very conservative and so was he. He wanted to make an honest woman out of me. I never told him but I… I hated being married. The prospect of a child.” Killian listened carefully “it is only normal that a woman of your character wouldn’t adjust immediately to the life of a wife and prospective mother-’’ Emma shook her head vehemently her voice rising “No but that’s just it! I never WANTED to adjust! I wanted it all gone. Maybe that’s why he….”  
The implications of what she was trying to say saddened Killian. His voice was softer than usual as he finished her sentence. “You believe God punished you by taking your baby and your husband away from you only months apart.’’ Her voice wavered and shook as she hastily brushed a tear away . “Yes I do. Everything was going fine and I was getting used to things. To the prospect of only being a wife and mother and nothing else. Then one day I woke up and I was covered in blood… Neal took me to the hospital but it was too late. I lost my boy. Neither Doctor Wale nor Neal could explain it but I knew. I knew it was my fault”  
As she was speaking, thunder was sounding in the distance and the sky had gotten more dark and ominous. At the sound of it Emma rose suddenly pulling her coat back on and shaking her head. “This..this was a mistake. I have to go. Right now.’’ And dashed out the confessional. Killian rose and ran after her through the heavy door she’d thrown open. That was when the Heavens opened and the rain started. Killian yelled after her “Emma wait!’’ She did then, the rain soaking her coat and hair. She shook violently and his voice softened as he implored. “please come back inside. You can’t walk back in this weather. Come and get shelter.’’ She hesitated turning to see him, her eyes red and wet. He was suddenly sure it wasn’t from the rain. She nodded after a long moment and he turned to walk back inside. Once she was inside as well, he closed the heavy door and spoke “Come and lets get you warm. The rectory is warmer and you can get dry” His voice held the note of a question and in answer she shrugged out of her coat, her hair hanging wet and plastered to her face.  
Killian hurriedly turned careful not to stare. He shouldn’t be but he couldn’t help himself. He had always thought that Emma was a beautiful woman and, for reasons he had yet to explain to himself, the day he had performed her marriage to Neal Cassidy had been one of the worst of his tenure in the small town. He had been so mad, so out of control that he had shut himself away in his rectory for weeks claiming an illness he didn’t really have. In one day, he had fallen into 3 sins: jealousy, anger and lying which was very unusual for him. He shook his head to clear it as he led the way to the rectory. He had buried those feelings years ago. They had no reason to resurface now. So what if Emma was now a widow? He still wore his dog collar day in and day out and it wasn’t as if he wanted to change that.  
He was so deep in his musings that he realized just then she had been trying to get his attention. He struggled to smile and he said “My apologies. Please do sit. I shall start a fire” The rectory was small but warm. It only contained a small kitchen where there was a table and a fireplace and his bedroom on the other side with only a bed, a nightstand and a cupboard. Emma sat on one of the two chairs as he knelt and took a lighter from the mantel and lit the newspapers there. They were alight immediately and soon a log started to burn, a flame rising. He sat at the other chair beside the one she sat and he said softly “are you alright Emma? Are you cold?” She shook her head her eyes still wet and swollen and he laid his hand on her shoulder. “Would you like some tea? It should help relieve some of the chill” She looked back at him whispering “I think I’d like a cup yes” At that, he rose and in swift deft movements set the kettle to a boil and dropped some chamomile in each mug. “would you like some honey?” he whispered and that made her smile a little “my mother used to make me some chamomile tea with honey when there was a storm” The soft smile brought his own lips up “Aye so did mine. I wager you want some honey then” At her nod, he poured the water and one teaspoon of tea for each of them bringing them to the table.  
As the tea cooled, they spoke softly and unhurriedly about the latest weather (Killian was very painfully aware of the cliché as he was the one to start that conversation) and then proceeded to the books they read. Emma had been reading philosophy to his surprise while he had been reading poetry. He even showed her the book of poetry he had gotten by Federico Garcia Lorca and one of his favorites. Their fingers brushed and a shiver ran through him at the contact as she took the book and read. For some reason, her eyes watered and she let it drop with trembling fingers starting to cry. Killian let his mug drop and without thinking he drew an arm around her. She was breaking down as he expected she would. Maybe it was overdue in her case since from what he could tell she never cried.  
Emma let her weight rest on his shoulder and he held her like that letting her cry his own heart breaking at the pain she was experiencing, the pain she must have held for so long. His fingers caressed her wet hair back and his thumb brushed a tear out of the corner of her eye. She turned to look up at him, her face still tear stained and her lips trembling. His fingers were still tracing her face when she leaned up and, as he was about to speak, her lips caught his. A shock ran through him at the feeling, horror at what was happening in the house of God but, instead of pushing her away as he knew he should have, his hand cupped her face and he let his mouth soften on hers. A sob escaped her as he relented her hand moving to his neck then into his hair. He groaned as her fingers slowly, shyly made their way to cup his neck and up to his hair, her own lips soft. She tasted like hot tea and honey and she smelled like the rain hammering through the windows. Slowly, his arm off its own accord wrapped around her neck pulling her to him. Their torsos pressed together, their clothes still wet from the rain.  
Eventually he had to reluctantly pull back to breathe. As his eyes opened, he looked at her face: it was still wet with tears but her lips were swollen and her wet hair matted to her forehead. Any other person would have said she was a mess but she had never looked more beautiful to him. This time she opened her mouth to speak “ Father… Killian I… I shouldn’t have. It’s not right. The position I put you in… I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” She was withdrawing about ready to run and he recovered fast. “Second thoughts?’’ he asked directly, his eyes darkening to the color of the sea waves crashing against rocks. She swallowed and he could feel her struggling but eventually she simply said “No. I’m not. I have thought a thousand times about what it would be like but I never… I never actually thought I’d do it till now. And not like this.” He licked his lips and her eyes followed the movement unable to help herself. Before she knew it their lips met in another kiss. This one was different. To her surprise, his lips were more demanding and his tongue stroked along her own lips which parted to his silent query. She groaned as his tongue stroked along hers and his hand wound in her hair tilting her head so the new angle allowed him in even deeper. His other hand was moving down her throat and to the coat she wore unbuttoning it slowly, giving her time to stop him. But she didn’t. She helped him by shrugging it off and he pulled away for a few moments to look down at her.  
Her denim shirt was soaked through and the swell of her bra encased breasts was visible, the sight making him shudder. He had no idea what to do but he knew he wanted to touch her. He looked up at her, his eyes still dark letting his fingers brush down the soaked material. She bit her lip nodding as if she had read his mind. At her acceptance, his fingers parted the two top buttons letting her blue lace bra peek out through them but, most of all, her creamy white skin. They shook as they traced her collarbone and then proceeded in unfastening all the buttons. Long nervous fingers dipped to tease right beneath the lace of her breast. He could see the shape of them as they were merely covered by lace and it drove him mad. He had no idea what drove him to but he leaned to kiss his way down her rain soaked flesh. She was still but shuddering as slow, reverent lips kissed and tasted her skin till they found a lace covered nipple. He let his lips close around it and he sucked feeling her fingers suddenly dig into his hair keeping him where he was. His chair creaked as he pulled her closer and suddenly she moved to straddle him making his whole body tingle as her weight rested on him. His hand was at her back supporting her as he sucked on her nipple, feeling it pebble and harden under his attentions. Her moan of pleasure made him bolder and he pulled away to push at the soaked lace and get at her skin feeling the taste of it in his mouth. She pulled at his hair and he growled, the sound making her shudder at its primal nature. Soon enough he got impatient and he untucked her shirt from her jeans, her arms dropping letting him pull it off her.  
Suddenly she pushed down on him and his fingers clenched on her back as he hardened. She sighed and her eyes opened staring into his as she then very deliberately rolled her hips into his, feeling the effect she had on him. His hands dropped on her hips as her own moved to his chest pulling open the buttons on his cassock letting it drop open and expose the black shirt and pants he wore beneath. Slowly he let her pull it off him and it dropped on the floor with a soft sound. His hands pulled her legs around him urging her to wrap them around his waist and she did. He rose and walked to the bed he had been sleeping alone in since he was 23 and joined the parish laying her down on it.  
He let his hand move down to take off her boot, her own fingers shaking when they went to his shirt unbuttoning it and exposing his chest. His other hand moved to the dog collar and, while staring into her eyes, he pulled it off letting it drop to the floor. Once it did, it was like everything was in slow motion. He leaned down to brush her lips with his immediately deepening it while her hands were pushing his shirt off and tossing it on the side of the bed, caressing down his shoulders.  
His body was like nothing she had expected. He was toned and his torso was lined with hard muscle, his chest covered in hair. She was surprised to see small scars covering him and she leaning up to brush her lips over each one. He shuddered at her mouth on his skin resting his hands on the bed either side of her letting his body brush over hers. She looked up at him, drinking in the way he looked right then, above her, wanting her. She kept his gaze as her own fingers reached down to unbutton and unzip her jeans, blue matching lace peeking through them. One hand cupped hers halting them and he slowly, nervously pulled them down exposing her long legs and letting them drop. Once she was bare to his gaze he couldn’t help staring. Suddenly her hands covered her abdomen and he noticed her fingers shaking. He was confused but as he gently pried her hands away he realized why. The big pink scar stretched along her lower abdomen and he remembered what had happened after the accident. The miscarriage. He shook his head his accent thicker with emotion. “Don’t hide from me…’’ he whispered as he moved down her body kissing to that scar and slowly passing it letting his breath tease her through her lace panties. Then his fingers pulled the material aside letting his tongue caress her. A violent shudder racked her as he moaned at her taste. This was completely new and foreign to him but her taste was heavenly and he immediately knew he had to have more of it.  
Her leg rose to rest on his shoulder as his fingers impatiently tugged at the material till it fell apart in his hand leaving her bare and wet. She was wet for him and he relished the realization as his tongue feasted on her letting his lips close on her clit instinctively. The way her hand suddenly dug in his shoulder told him everything he needed to know as he let his lips suck on the little bundle of nerves. He looked up at her after a few moments drinking in the sight of her bare and writhing on his bed, the same bed into which he had struggled not to think of her… He pushed the thoughts away as he decided to try something else, slowly easing a long finger into her. She was so warm and tight as he started to move it in time with his sucking of her clit, her hair a waterfall on his pillow and her mouth dropping open into an O of pleasure. His finger moved slowly steadily picking up pace as his tongue lapped at her not wanting to miss a drop of her. Soon another slow gentle finger joined the first, feeling the slight resistance.  
He somehow knew what he had suspected all those years ago: Cassidy had been her first and, since his death, her only one. Till him. That thought made the way she arched and her body sucking in his fingers all the more apprehensive. He resumed the gentle sucking of her clit and his fingers crooked to enter her deeper. By accident, he hit something that made her whimper out his name.  
The sound was so beautiful that he had to cause it again so he crooked his two fingers once more hitting the same spot. Emma whimpered again and her fingers gripped his shoulders making him look up at her. She was a vision: flushed, panting and her lips swollen, her hair a mess. Her voice when it came was husky. “Killian..’’ and the sound made his heart clench. He crawled up her body shushing her with a soft brush of lips. “Hush love. I’ll take care of you.” he assured her as he reached between them unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. Noticing what he was doing, shy soft fingers replaced his own slowly pulling them down along with his boxers. Her eyes were glued to him taking in how thick he was, hard already. She looked up at him keeping his gaze as her fingers curled around his shaft and he almost lost it. He started reciting to himself prayers in Latin his eyes arrested by hers letting his hips rock into her grip which was so much softer, more steady and perfect than his own so long ago. He had stopped himself from using the thought of her this way which made what they were doing now so much more pleasurable, the sensation heightened by how much he had wanted her all those years.  
Because he could no longer deny he wanted her. His thoughts were scattered when her fingers twisted around his cock and her thumb brushed the tip causing another growl to escape his lips. To Emma right there he looked like a debauched angel dark and luscious: his fingers clenching on the sheets either side of her as his hips rocked into her grip, his lips swollen and parted as he muttered to himself, his eyes… oh those eyes. She was awed by how focused he was on her, how his need and want for her showed. She was about to satisfy her curiosity of how his skin tasted when his fingers, shaking, curled through her own bringing them to his mouth and kissing them, his voice ragged and several octaves lower. “Not yet darling. Not before I feel you wrapped around me” his words flooding her with more heat as she cupped his neck pulling him down and kissing him again her leg wrapping around his waist pulling him down on top of her.  
Killian’s hands were shaking as he caressed her face moving down to her sides cupping her ass as he felt his hard cock brush against her opening. He moaned at the friction his head arched back and his eyes fluttering closed as her nails dragged down his chest, pain and pleasure making his hips snap, the friction almost unbearable in its pleasure. When he opened his eyes again, they were staring down into her emerald green gaze and he slowly took himself in hand aligning with her entrance. He let go his fingers splayed out either side of her as he entered her agonizingly slowly, inch by inch and Emma’s hands went around his shoulders her mouth dropping to an O of pleasure. His fingers closed on the sheets, knuckles white with the urge to simply drive into her and fuck her into the mattress with force but he didn’t succumb to that urge. Instead, he let himself feel her wrapping around him, his mouth covering hers as he finally sheathed himself inside her tight heat.  
It took him a few long moments to get himself under control before one hand reached for her ankle caressing his way upwards and wrapping her leg around him. His eyes opened again dark stormy blue glued to hers as he slowly pulled out thrusting back inside her in one stroke. His name tumbled from her lips like a prayer and he shuddered as he whispered “You feel.. so warm. So soft.. I didn’t dare imagine how good you’d feel” in instinct rolling his hips and changing the angle, the new change hitting her just there. Her fingers were on his shoulders scratching down his back, both her legs wrapping around his waist to let him in even deeper “don’t stop..please..” came her hoarse plea and his own sounded rougher, his accent thicker and more pronounced causing liquid fire to flood her veins “Never. I’ll never stop. Not now…” he growled, her plea as if triggering something within him, his thrusts growing less controlled but harder, his hands everywhere on her and his mouth..oh that mouth moved from her lips to sucking and licking his way to her collarbone, long fingers cupping and squeezing a breast, thumb worrying a nipple.  
That same rough accented voice came again as he pinched and worried her nipple to hardness “This perfect skin of yours tortured me for years… Your mouth. Your eyes… Wondering how you’d feel like, how you’d taste.. Since I first saw you I wanted to lose myself in you. I’ve never wanted another woman before you..” then his voice was cut off as his lips closed over her nipple, her inner muscles clenching around his cock, the years that had passed since anyone had loved her with their touch melting away. She pulled his face up to hers as she clenched harder around him a long drawn out moan escaping him, his hands shaking as they buried themselves in her hair. He kissed her like she was the very oxygen he needed, like he was a man dying of thirst and presented with a bubbling stream, his tongue battling with hers before he sucked on her tongue his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm, turning sloppy and she knew just then that he was close. She pulled away from him wanting to see his face as he came undone because of her, her own orgasm cresting.  
His eyes were half lidded, biting on his bottom lip as he reached between them, a thumb brushing her clit in time with his thrusts but it was the rough Irish brogue that undid her “Let go for me darling… let me see you” Seemingly unable to help it, she fell over the edge, his name on her lips and her back arched. He followed soon after, two sharp thrusts and he spent himself inside her collapsing nearly on top of her. It took them a few moments to catch her breath and Emma waited for him to pull away from her, dress back on his dog collar and be horrified at himself for the way he broke his abstinence. But all she felt after was the way he gently withdrew from inside her and his hands on her body caressing her. His mouth was on her neck as he lay beside her head propped up and caressing her face, thumb tracing her lip. His gold cross still hang from his neck and she saw in the light of the flickering candle on his nightstand black ink on his chest. She traced the script on his skin with a finger surprised clearly at a priest with a tattoo.  
His eyes closed at her touch and he said “It’s a Latin prayer. One of those that held meaning to me. It says ‘ date et dabitur vobis ‘ and it means ‘Give and it shall be given unto you’” Then her voice came slow and soft in the stormy night “You said you have never wanted another woman before. Did you mean..?” He almost blushed at the question but he spoke honestly as he scratched behind his ear, a tell she remembered from all this time she’d known him that he was nervous. “Aye. You are the first woman I have ever touched”  
Her expression was shy as she mirrored his position “But..why me?” and he caressed her hair back leaning in to whisper “Because I couldn’t bear anymore not to touch you.” He cupped her cheek then and he leaned in covering her lips with his own once more. As the night slowly bled into dawn and they lost themselves in each other once more, they both knew that they had passed the point of no return. As finally he gave into exhaustion a few hours later, an arm gathering her to himself possessively, Emma realized that in spite of their circumstances and his commitment to God and the church, that she would not resist him again. Because she had finally found her safe haven.


End file.
